


cloud kisses

by hydroxy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, NCT 2020, jisung puffy cheeks and jaemin says: kiss me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydroxy/pseuds/hydroxy
Summary: Jaemin can’t find it in himself to feel bad for wanting to be selfish, especially when he missed the feeling of Jisung's soft, pillowy lips against his.
Relationships: Na Jaemin/Park Jisung
Comments: 14
Kudos: 133





	cloud kisses

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot tell you what took over me and allowed me to write this but i'm quite happy that i'm branching out with my ships. perhaps it's all the [jaemsung](https://youtu.be/wz1aszzZOLQ?t=1655) shippers i've followed on twt over the past few weeks. thank u so much to [sky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrytae) for being my second pair of eyes over this work. 
> 
> i hope u enjoy this fluffity fluffy fluff!

Jaemin didn’t mean to let it slip that he thought Jisung was the most adorable boy on the planet, though he’s glad that he’s not the only one who thinks so. Even if he hadn’t said it aloud, his sentiments were already pretty obvious, anyway.

Being the youngest of their group, it was only natural for Jisung to receive the most praise from their managers and dance teachers, to be showered in gifts and warm hugs from all of their other members on his birthday, to be regarded as the forever precious baby of their group, even if, in the future, new members were to be added to their lineup.

Even his last name was adorable, for crying out loud, and everyone loved to yell it aloud at the top of their lungs whenever it was Jisung’s turn to take the center position during their many rehearsals or whenever he would bluff—then blush about it immediately after—about something silly during their pre-recorded variety shows.

The question wasn’t even about Jisung to begin with. Chenle clearly had Jaemin in mind when he came around to hug him from the back, walking up to him without an inkling of hesitation after pretending to deliberate over his answer for the sake of extended screentime, and Jaemin was more than ready to show off the aegyo he was famed for when asked by the _Weekly Idol_ hosts to exemplify why exactly Chenle had considered him to be the cutest one out of all of them. 

But for some reason mid-demonstration, Jaemin just couldn’t help but drag Jisung’s cuteness into the equation, blurting out how much he loved watching the younger’s cheeks puff up whenever he was deeply concentrated on winning the many computer games he’d play into the early mornings, when their schedules had ended for the day and after they’d all gone off to spend the night in their separate rooms. 

Then recordings for _NCT WORLD 2.0_ came around, and this time, Jaemin didn’t even need to prompt the younger to appeal to the hearts of their beloved fans around their world. Jisung, center-stage with his drone controller in hand, had spent a solid ten minutes with his cheeks puffed out and eyebrows knitted in concentration, adorably struggling to fly his drone through the goalpost standing twenty feet away from him. Jaemin knew he wasn’t the only one who fell even harder for the boy’s charms that afternoon, joining the rest of his bandmates’ whooping and hollering when Jisung finally completed his mission.

On the drive back from filming, Jaemin had whispered sweet compliments into the younger’s ear, admiring the way Jisung would flush bright pink and scrunch his nose with every word of praise, before the two fell asleep with their fingers tightly linked and Jisung’s head resting comfortably on Jaemin’s shoulder.

“Jisung-ah, you did such a good job today,” Yuta had complimented him on their walk back to their dorms, endearingly ruffling the younger’s newly-highlighted hair before running off to swing an arm around Mark’s shoulder a few feet ahead of them. 

“Wow, a compliment from our resident star soccer player,” Donghyuck teased, a wink thrown Jisung’s way before he padded off to cling onto Sungchan, his new subject of affection. “Jisung will be bragging about this for the next two weeks.”

“We should ask to play with drones during the next _ChenJi_ filming, Sungie,” Chenle said, preoccupied with the graphics lighting up his phone screen and expertly maneuvering around the bodies walking in front of him without even glancing up. “Wouldn’t that make such good content?” 

Jaemin hears their manager walking alongside them lightly grunt in agreement and watches him pull out his phone, likely to send a text to their content division to add another suggestion to the ever-growing list. He’s glad that their fans have enjoyed their show so much that the boys are currently filming for a second season, and he hopes they’ll be able to film a third. Jisung was always so excited to tell Jaemin about the content he’d film that day, and Jaemin remembers how adorable he’d looked when they’d filmed their first ever episode, his fingers stained forest green and neon yellow from all the dyes he’d used, ever-so-gently cupping the clear plastic container of the monstrous slime he’d created for Jaemin before thrusting it into Jaemin’s surprised hands.

Jaemin had gingerly lifted the container to the light to observe it more closely, noticing the specks of holographic star glitters and smiley-faced cutouts swimming in the dark green goo before breaking into a huge grin and pulling the younger in for a tight bear hug, cooing at how much he appreciated the present and how he’d keep it on display forever and ever.

He looks up from where he’s sitting comfortably against his pillow, pushed upright against the wall of his bed frame, to see the same plastic container sitting still atop his dresser, the slime oxidized to a dark black ink color. The light of the bright graphics from Jisung’s desktop monitor bounces off the walls to land on the small holographic glitters that had settled at the bottom of the clear cup.

“Stay in your _lane, Tristana!”_ Jaemin hears Jisung yell, and his eyes travel over to watch the battle currently taking place on Jisung’s monitor, an explosion of multicolored solar flares mixed with the loud grunts and yells from the champions on his screen blaring through their external speakers, before Jisung’s display suddenly changes to a dark gray color with a countdown timer smack dab in the center. Jisung groans, throwing his head back against his chair in frustration, and puffs out his cheeks before blowing out a long sigh into the air above him.

“What’s the current tally?” Jaemin asks with a raised brow. Games aren’t everything, especially not to the ultra non-competitive Na Jaemin, but he knows how fired up Jisung can get whenever the cards aren’t in his favor.

“One kill, two deaths, seven assists,” Jisung grumbles, impatiently clicking his mouse at nothing in particular while he waits for his champion to be revived. _Forty-five, forty-four, forty-three._

Jaemin hums, a grin pulling at his lips as he watches Jisung stare into space in front of him, his cheeks still puffed up, like a squirrel readying itself for winter hibernation. 

Jaemin’s had the pleasure of massaging the soft skin of his cheeks before, on the many nights Jisung had been too exhausted from their schedules to remove his makeup, watching the younger’s eyelids flutter closed while Jaemin gently smoothed a damp washcloth over his cheeks, then over his forehead, over his chin. He has the sudden urge to jump right up from where he’s sitting, underneath the three layers of blankets stacked on his lap, his legs crossed with an open, half-read book in front of him, and drag Jisung into bed with him to cup his cheeks with his palms and kiss the boy senseless, but he sees the timer counting down and knows that Jisung will need his full concentration in a bit and decides against it. _Thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven._

Then he notices the time: the fluorescent red glow of the numbers on the huge digital clock hanging on the opposite wall that reads _2:49 AM_ . Their next schedule would begin in less than four hours, bright and early, Jaemin remembers. _Twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty._

It’d be in their best interest, Jaemin thinks, if he’s able to convince his boyfriend to sleep now, rather than later or not at all. Jisung becomes a bit of a grouch if he gets less than three hours of sleep per night, and Jaemin is especially familiar with this, having had to deal with his grumbles and complaints in the early morning as the younger often attempted to pull Jaemin back under the covers with him, even with Jeno and Renjun yelling at the two to get up from outside their bedroom door.

It’s been a while since he’d been able to kiss Jisung senseless anyway, Jaemin convinces himself. Rehearsals and pre-recordings for Make a Wish had been well underway for weeks on end, and by the time Jaemin would return to the dorms after a long day of schedules and forced extroversion, Jisung would already be fast asleep under the Jaemin’s covers, his orange Ryan plushie tightly hugged against Jisung’s chest as the younger lightly snored the night away.

_Fourteen, thirteen, twelve._

How mad could Jisung possibly get, anyway? He wasn’t even playing a ranked game, Jaemin rationalizes, and it was likely that his team would lose based on how they’d been playing for the past twenty minutes. Jaemin can’t find it in himself to feel bad for wanting to be selfish, especially when he missed the feeling of his boyfriend’s soft, pillowy lips against his. Like clouds, he’d once described, which led to an hour-long debate about the texture of water vapor before the two had giggled it off and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Jaemin quietly shuffles out of bed, toeing on his slippers that were waiting for him on the cold wooden floor, and makes his decision. _Ten, nine, eight._

“If you’re going outside, can you get me some warm water, hyung?”

_Three, two, one._

Just as the sound of Jisung’s champion reappearing at the home base chimes through their loudspeakers, Jaemin loops his arms over Jisungs shoulders, tenderly brushing his fingers against Jisung’s jaw to coax the younger to face him, and kisses him square on the lips, grinning into the kiss as Jisung squeaks in surprise.

 _“Hyung!”_ Jisung complains, swatting a hand at Jaemin as the older giggles to himself, “I’m playing a game right now!”

“But I miss you,” Jaemin pouts.

“We hung out all day today,” Jisung instantly replies, maneuvering his head around Jaemin in an attempt to see what was happening on his screen.

“But I want _kisses,”_ Jaemin whines, scowling at the boy who kept trying to avoid his affection.

“I’ll give you kisses after the game is over,” Jisung argues, the clicking on his mouse intensified.

“But I want them _now.”_ Jaemin knits his brows together and pouts, jutting out his bottom lip in frustration at Jisung, who’d paused his clicking to look up at the older with incredulity. Jisung mirrors his expression, as if he was arguing with his conscience about his current state of affairs, then finally sighs, reaching over to turn his monitor off and spreading his arms wide for Jaemin to jump into his lap.

“You’re so needy, you know that?” Jisung asks a giddy Jaemin, though a smile pulls at his own lips as he looks down at the older.

Everyone had thought it was strange, their relationship, when they first started dating. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Mark had asked when he stumbled upon Jaemin sitting in Jisung’s lap one day. “I spoil him too,” Jaemin had quickly retorted, Jisung having to hold him back before he could get up to chase Mark out of the practice room. Jisung found it more comfortable to cradle Jaemin, rather than the other way around, anyway, since it was just too awkward to try and fit his large, lanky frame into Jaemin’s lap.

“And you love me for it,” Jaemin replies, a bright grin lighting up his face. 

Jisung tilts his head down to gently kiss Jaemin, smiling against his lips as the older hums contentedly. 

“I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! you can find me on [twt](https://www.twitter.com/hyckfairy/) or [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/hyckfairy) ♡


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